


Underneath Your Clothes

by jjong



Category: VIXX
Genre: Communication, Lingerie, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 19:19:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12539304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjong/pseuds/jjong
Summary: Wonsik’s body isn’t new to Taekwoon. He’s still toned and angular – mostly on account of how thin he is – but the band of delicate black lace stretched across the jut of his hipbones, sitting just below the hard-earned musculature of his abdomen provides such a striking contrast that Taekwoon can’t take his eyes off him.





	Underneath Your Clothes

**Author's Note:**

> this got away from me. what started out as a simple “wonsik wears lingerie” fic turned into something else entirely. excessive use of the word “panties” and I apologise for that, but it was a necessary evil.

“You should’ve called ahead if you knew you were going to be home so soon. I could’ve made you something,” Hakyeon says, poking at Taekwoon as he walks through the door.

“I ate on the way,” Taekwoon lies as he steps out of his shoes and lets Hakyeon take his bag off him, setting it down by Sanghyuk on the couch.

“How’d rehearsal go, hyung?”

“Very well, thank you,” Taekwoon replies, returning the fist-bump Sanghyuk offers by way of greeting.

“N-hyung said there was a fire. Did you go rogue and try torch the place?” Sanghyuk quips, turning onto his stomach to look at Taekwoon over the armrest.

“There wasn’t a _fire_. One of the lights malfunctioned, is all.” Thankfully, no one was injured but the sprinkler system had activated, and it was close enough to the end of the day that the stage director decided to call it quits.

“What’s on fire?” Hongbin asks, swanning into the room in a cloud of cologne, having heard only snippets of the conversation.

“There was no fire!” Taekwoon cries, shooting an accusatory look in Hakyeon’s direction, who laughs unhelpfully at him.

“Well, there may be one yet because we’re going out!” Hongbin says with a flourish, slinging an arm around Hakyeon’s shoulders. “You’re more than welcome to join,” he adds, the way he always does even though Taekwoon very rarely takes him up on the offer.

“I’ll pass tonight. I’m exhausted,” Taekwoon says, stretching his arms in an exaggerated way and surreptitiously looking around the room in a manner he hopes is nonchalant.

“He’s writing,” Haykeon says, catching Taekwoon’s eye with a knowing smile, inclining his head towards the room Wonsik shares with Sanghyuk. “Been holed up in there all day.”

“Right,” Taekwoon says, sheepishly breaking the eye contact, “thanks.”

Across the room, Hongbin frowns at the clock on the oven display and says, “we should probably make a move. Where’s Jaehwan-hyung?”

“Here! I’m here!” Jaehwan hollers, rushing out of his bedroom with his shoes in his hand. “I couldn’t find the belt that matches these pants but it’s okay, crisis averted.”

“You look nice,” Taekwoon tells him, standing to one side to let him pass.

“Thank you, Leo-hyung.” Jaehwan beams, twirling to show off his outfit.

“I’m staying in too,” Sanghyuk announces loudly, out of the blue and to no one in particular, rootling around in the couch cushions for the remote.

“You’re missing out,” Hongbin tells them from where he’s double checking his hair in the hall mirror.

“I think we’ll live. Besides, there’s only so many times I can watch you strike out with that cute waitress from the cocktail place,” Sanghyuk says casually, smiling sweetly at Hongbin with mischief in his eyes.

Hongbin gives him the finger, shrugging on his jacket at the door. “Goodbye to Taekwoon-hyung and Taekwoon-hyung only.”

“Have a good time, be safe,” Taekwoon says, helping Hakyeon into his coat.

“Same to you,” Hakyeon teases, then calls behind him, “see you later, Hyuk-ah.”

“BYE HYUNG, MAKE GOOD CHOICES!”

Hakyeon winces at Sanghyuk’s lack of volume control and ushers Hongbin and Jaehwan out of the door before giving Taekwoon’s arm a squeeze as he slips past him. “Say bye to Wonsik for us.

Taekwoon smiles and nods, closing the door behind them.

In the living room, there are explosions blasting out of the speakers so Sanghyuk must have found the remote. Taekwoon shuffles awkwardly, staring at the high definition carnage on the screen as he figures out his next move. He’d feel bad just ditching Sanghyuk and leaving him on his lonesome.

“I should probably go say hi to Wonsik,” Taekwoon says, angling himself towards the hallway and trying not to seem too eager.

Sanghyuk rolls his eyes, as fond as that gesture can get and says, “you don’t need an excuse, hyung. Go for it.”

Taekwoon goes for it.

The room is dark when he enters, as if Wonsik forgot to turn on the lights. Taekwoon flicks the switch and Wonsik looks surprised to see him, eyes gradually adjusting to the sudden brightness from his seat at his desk, fingers poised over the keyboard where he’d stalled mid-type. Which makes sense considering Taekwoon wasn’t supposed to be getting back until tomorrow evening at the earliest.

Rehearsals had gone mostly without a hitch but the technical fault with the lighting rig had brought things to a pretty sudden halt. Not that Taekwoon had minded being excused early. As much as he loves his castmates, between preparing for the musical and his schedule with the group, he’s been bobbing around so many different venues lately, he can barely keep it all straight.

Getting a moment alone with Wonsik is practically a godsend at this point.

“You’re back,” Wonsik points out conversationally, taking off his headphones and closing his laptop before getting to his feet with a groan, shaking the stiffness out of his legs.

“I’m back,” Taekwoon agrees and tries not to laugh as he watches Wonsik shuffle over to him. “How long have you been sitting like that?”

“Couple of hours tops.”

Taekwoon raises an eyebrow at the blatant lie and steps further out of Wonsik’s reach just to be a shit. “Hakyeon says you’ve been in here all day. You know you’re not supposed to let your knees seize up,” He chastises, poking Wonsik in the stomach to drive home his point once he’s close enough.

“I know, I know,” Wonsik says, swatting Taekwoon’s hand away in mock annoyance, catching his fingers and holding on. “Thought you were gone ‘til tomorrow?”

“Change of plans.” Taekwoon shrugs, neglecting to elaborate further. He’s tired of talking about work and schedules and all that rigmarole. When he’d first got home, his first thought was to locate Wonsik, the nearest bed and his noise cancelling headphones in that order and to crash for a solid eight hours.

Now that he has Wonsik in front of him, looking natural and rumpled from a day spent hunched over his laptop, Taekwoon can think of somewhat better ways to spend his time. He’s still tired – always tired, these days – but sleep is no longer at the top of his immediate to-do list.

“What am I going to do with all this free time…” He muses, drawing Wonsik closer to him in a very obvious invitation.

Rolling his eyes, Wonsik takes the bait and leans in to welcome Taekwoon back with kisses.

“Missed you…” Taekwoon confesses quietly into the space between their lips.

“It’s only been three days,” Wonsik replies, amused, pressing his forehead to Taekwoon’s to catch his breath. He has a point and Taekwoon doesn’t consider himself to be clingy by any means but not being able to kiss Wonsik goodnight has been particularly awful. It’s those little details that he missed the most. He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of it, the way Wonsik’s lips feel against his own and while it has only been a weekend since he saw him last, it feels like he hasn’t kissed him in forever.

Wonsik growls softly under his breath, nipping at Taekwoon’s lips with his teeth before backing Taekwoon towards the door. They stumble together, across the hall into Taekwoon’s room to ensure Sanghyuk doesn’t walk in at an inopportune moment the way he so often does.

“Up,” Taekwoon commands playfully, taking hold of Wonsik’s sweatshirt, drawing himself away from Wonsik’s lips long enough to get the garment over his head. Taekwoon drops it carelessly on the floor just outside of his room as Wonsik pulls him through the threshold and kicks the door closed behind them.

Taekwoon hooks his fingers into the waistband of Wonsik’s jeans, pulling him closer and using the leverage to kiss him that little bit deeper. It’s always hard to multitask when he’s working with Wonsik’s talented tongue in his mouth but eventually, he regains his composure long enough to wrestle with the fastenings of Wonsik’s jeans.

He’s wearing the difficult pair, with the button fly that always sticks. Once the buttons are out of the way, his fingers continue their quest over the taut skin beneath Wonsik’s navel, brushing against something lacy and low on Wonsik’s hips…

“Taekwoon! Don’t—"

It’s then with a crushing sense of dread that Taekwoon realizes Wonsik’s entire body has gone rigid and still. He starts to wriggle out of Taekwoon’s arms, his fingers gripping tightly around Taekwoon’s wrist as he shoves his hand away from his body, recoiling from his touch so strongly that Taekwoon startles, confused.

Wondering what could have possibly went wrong so quickly because Wonsik had been fine up until now. He’d been happy - playful, even.

His breathing is off, coming too quick like he can’t quite get enough air into his lungs.

Taekwoon wants to reach out, to put himself back in Wonsik’s orbit, even if it’s only through a gesture. He has to do _something_ to let him know that he’s here if he needs him but it’s clear that what Wonsik _really_ needs right now is space, so Taekwoon keeps his distance and asks, “Is everything okay?”

Wonsik squeezes his eyes shut and doesn’t answer, clearly trying to force himself to breathe with the way his throat his working.

“Please talk to me. What happened?”

Shaking his head, Wonsik takes a shuddering breath in, and steps out of Taekwoon’s reach entirely.

Shit.  

“Did I do something wrong?” Taekwoon asks, trying to ignore the way his stomach clenches at how Wonsik’s avoiding his gaze.

“Not y-you,” Wonsik chokes, looking and sounding alarmingly close to tears. “I just didn’t want you to take off my jeans.”

That is not the answer Taekwoon was expecting and it’s so out of left field that he doesn’t quite know what his next move should be. While it’s true that they are both amorous young men - they’re not machines. Sometimes they’re not in the mood for sex and that’s fine. Wonsik has always been very up-front with him when he doesn’t want to do something, both in and out of the bedroom.

He has certainly never reacted like _this_ before.

Wonsik is quiet where he’s standing by the bed, arms folded around himself protectively like he’s embarrassed and Taekwoon wants to give him his sweatshirt back, to cover him up, but it’s in the hallway and he doesn’t want to leave him alone long enough to retrieve it.

“I wasn’t gonna let it get this far but you know I get distracted when I’m kissing you. I forgot to make up an excuse.”

It’s his use of the word “excuse” that really scares the hell out of Taekwoon because Wonsik has never actively _planned_ to lie to him before. Not in a sexual context, anyway.

“If you didn’t want to have sex tonight, you could’ve just told me. Why did you feel like you had to make something up?” Taekwoon is genuinely concerned, the one thing he thought he could always count on in their relationship, as bumpy as it is, was honesty.

“I don’t _not_ want to have sex,” Wonsik replies, blunt as ever. “It’s-- I just need to change first.”

“Why? You look fine,” Taekwoon says, trying to mask his confusion because he still doesn’t know how Wonsik’s outfit lead to his little meltdown.

It’s then that he remembers the lace he’d discovered when he eventually got Wonsik’s jeans undone.

Ah.

Things are making sense again.

“Do you not want me to see your underwear?”

That must be it because Wonsik stiffens so abruptly it’s a miracle he doesn’t topple right over. 

“It’s not what you think, I promise,” He stammers, fingers clutching uselessly at his waistband like it’s poised to betray him.

“Wonsik,” Taekwoon starts, adopting a placating tone so as to not freak him out any further, “are you wearing panties?”

He almost immediately regrets the question because Wonsik starts crying as soon as he asks, which is horrifying but also serves as a pretty succinct answer in lieu of an actual response.

Taekwoon thinks back to his ex and her eagerness to show him whenever she’d buy new lingerie. The way it turned her on when he’d slip his fingers beneath the soft satin to touch her. She looked beautiful and he loved it, of course, because _she_ loved it.

The memory of her confidence is such a stark contrast to the way Wonsik is holding himself now, like he’s bracing himself for a blow to land.

Taekwoon got it wrong - it’s more than embarrassment.

Wonsik is terrified.

Because he likes to wear lingerie and the thought of Taekwoon finding out scared him so badly it made him cry.

Taekwoon feels like a shitty boyfriend.

 “It’s not a sex thing, I just… I like knowing that they’re there. Under my clothes. Something pretty, just for me. I didn’t know you’d be home so soon and I —I know it’s weird. I’m sorry.” Wonsik buries his face in his hands and that is what does it for Taekwoon because Wonsik has never been ashamed of himself and like hell is he starting now.

He reaches out but stops short of initiating contact, ensuring that the ball is firmly back in Wonsik’s court by letting him decide if he wants Taekwoon to touch him.

 “Hey, look at me,” Taekwoon says, keeping his tone casual so that Wonsik doesn’t feel like it’s a demand. “I don’t think it’s weird.”

Dropping his hands with a shaky sigh, Wonsik steps back in to Taekwoon’s space, close but not quite touching. “You don’t?”

Taekwoon smiles and shakes his head, angling his body towards Wonsik but not closing the gap.

Not yet.

Not if Wonsik doesn’t want him to.

"Will you show me?” He asks, smiling encouragingly and hoping it’s enough to dispel some of the tension radiating off Wonsik’s body.

Wonsik’s ears are painfully red but he nods. His trembling hands going to his waistband as if on auto-pilot. Taekwoon steps in and stalls his progress, tangling their fingers together and feeling just how strongly Wonsik is shaking.

“You don’t have to, I won’t mind. It’s totally up to you,” He reminds Wonsik gently, in case he has forgotten that he’s in control of who gets to see his body. The fact that they’re dating doesn’t make Taekwoon exempt from that fact.

“No, I want to, it’s just… it’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not. Nobody can see you. Only me, and you never have to be embarrassed in front of me, okay?”

He means it. They’ve done enough stupid shit together that Wonsik would have to pull something truly heinous to even so much as get a rise out of Taekwoon at this point.

The first time Taekwoon sucked him off, Wonsik came all over his face and Taekwoon had been temporarily blinded in his right eye. _That_ had been embarrassing.

Hakyeon walking in on them halfway to fucking in the shower had been downright _mortifying_ and now rated very high on the group’s list of Things They Do Not Talk About.

But this…. Wonsik’s preference for wearing nice underwear is so far from anything to be embarrassed about. Taekwoon _needs_ him to know that.

A part of Taekwoon wants to take over for him, get him out of his jeans the way he’s done so many times before, but this is obviously a big deal for Wonsik, so Taekwoon lets him control the pace.

Wonsik works his jeans down his thighs, slowly revealing more of the black lace. The panties are low slung and intricately detailed with a scalloped trim. They cling to Wonsik’s hips beautifully. He’s not hard, but Taekwoon can see the outline of his dick, only just visible through the sheer base like a particularly maddening tease. The lace must be pushed to the limit when Wonsik’s erect and Taekwoon tries to push the image from his mind.

Wonsik’s been staring at him for as long as Taekwoon’s been staring at the panties, clearly nervous of what the reception will be as he has stopped taking his jeans off and is just standing with them pushed halfway down his thighs.

Taekwoon has been a little overwhelmed at the sight of his beautiful boyfriend in beautiful underwear so he hasn’t exactly been relaying his thoughts. “They look really good on you,” He says, truthfully, sounding a little awestruck, and smiles encouragingly at Wonsik, hoping it will be enough to let him know that it’s okay. That he’s safe and that Taekwoon is _so_ far from being weirded out.

Quite the opposite, in fact.

Wonsik doesn’t respond, but the flush travelling down his chest has now reached his navel. He shakes his head like he doesn’t believe Taekwoon’s words, even as his eyes close at the feeling of Taekwoon’s fingers lightly caressing his hip through the soft lace.

“Let’s get you out of these, handsome,” Taekwoon suggests, moving to tug gently at Wonsik’s jeans.

Seemingly reluctant for a second, Wonsik opens his eyes and nods, a bashful smile on his face as he watches Taekwoon crouch to take his jeans off the rest of the way. They don’t get much further down his legs before Taekwoon realizes that it’s not just the panties.

Wonsik is wearing stockings, too.

Black hold-ups with lace detailing and scalloped lining to match the panties. Wonsik obviously bought them as a set.

Taekwoon takes things slower, then. Not wanting to tear his hosiery and once Wonsik’s left in nothing but his stockings and those pretty, black panties and Taekwoon’s got the full picture, he’s speechless.

Wonsik’s body isn’t new to Taekwoon. He’s still toned and angular – mostly on account of how thin he is – but the band of delicate black lace stretched across the jut of his hipbones, sitting just below the hard-earned musculature of his abdomen provides such a striking contrast that Taekwoon can’t take his eyes off him.

He’s breath-taking, really.

Taekwoon gasps, a touch of reverence in his voice, “look at you.”

Wonsik squirms under the attention but Taekwoon can tell that he’s pleased, the tension in his stance bleeding out into something softer.

“Are these the only ones you own?” Taekwoon asks, genuinely curious as he runs a finger across the underwear, tracing the shape of the design. Wonsik shakes his head, watching the motion of Taekwoon’s hand. “I have others. Different colours, fabrics. It’s nice to have a choice.”

Taekwoon hums distractedly, wondering what entices Wonsik into buying a certain piece, just how many different pairs he owns, if he prefers co-ordinates or mixing and matching.

Maybe he’ll take Taekwoon shopping with him one day.

“Why’d you want to wear these today?”

Wonsik shrugs, like he hadn’t really thought about it. Speaks softly like they’re sharing a secret. “They match, and the lace is softer than some of my other pairs, so they feel nice on my skin.”

Taekwoon smiles at the reasoning. There’s something sweet about the idea of Wonsik getting up and putting on a pair of panties and some stockings simply because they make him feel good and he thought no one would see him.

It’s such an innocent confession that Taekwoon’s heart hurts to think Wonsik was scared to admit it.

“They suit you,” he says, because it’s true and Wonsik should know it.

The smile Wonsik gives him in response is enough to knock him sideways and it’s then that he realizes that they haven’t kissed in an excruciatingly long time.

“Can I kiss you?” Taekwoon asks, getting his arms around Wonsik’s waist and holding tight.

“Yeah,” Wonsik says, still smiling, and opens his mouth as Taekwoon leans in.

It’s more tongue than anything else, but that doesn’t matter because Wonsik _melts_ into it, fingers gripping tightly to Taekwoon’s hair.

“We don’t need to have sex. We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” Taekwoon says in a rush when they part, just to be sure.

“It’s okay, I want this.” Wonsik swallows loudly, and pauses, brows furrowed like he’s really thinking about what he wants to say next.

He runs a hand down his own stomach - and there’s nothing sexual about the motion, it’s a comfort move more than anything else - his fingers coming to rest over the subtle scalloped trim bordering the waist of his panties, absentmindedly stroking at the material as he speaks.

“Getting to be with you while wearing these isn’t something I ever let myself think about.”

“I want this, too. I always want you,” Taekwoon assures him, quietly, lips brushing Wonsik’s skin – close enough to feel when he relaxes, the tension in his shoulders suddenly draining away. Wonsik turns his head, searching out another kiss.

Their lips meet somewhere in the middle and this kiss is slower, softer but no less wet and Taekwoon feels a spark of heat in his gut, delighting in the subtle scrape of Wonsik’s stubble against his skin.

With great effort, he pulls himself away from Wonsik’s lips and goes to his knees, nosing at Wonsik through the lace, who gasps so loudly Taekwoon can feel his stomach contract beneath his fingers where he’s gripping his waist. Dropping a parting kiss on the tip of Wonsik’s clothed dick, Taekwoon works his way down, mouthing at the sensitive skin of Wonsik’s inner thighs until he’s shaking with it. His skin is hot, and he keeps making these _noises_ that go straight through Taekwoon’s body, stoking the fire building in his gut.

He’s starting to think things would go a lot smoother from here on out if he got Wonsik off his feet.

“Here, lie down,” Taekwoon says, walking him backwards until Wonsik’s sprawled across the bed. His eyes are half-lidded and lazy, his hips twitching seemingly of their own accord as he reaches towards Taekwoon.

“Wanna touch you, too.”

That’s really all the encouragement Taekwoon needs and he rids himself of his shirt so quickly that Wonsik starts to laugh at his eagerness. His pants soon join the shirt in a discarded heap by the bed and Wonsik pulls him back in, flipping their positions so smoothly Taekwoon doesn’t register the movement until his back hits the mattress.

Crawling into his lap with the dancer’s grace Taekwoon has really come to appreciate, Wonsik shifts until he’s fully seated on Taekwoon’s crotch.  He rocks down involuntarily with a deep, needy groan once Taekwoon gets his fingers around his thighs, coaxing him in until he’s flush against him.

Taekwoon watches the motion of Wonsik’s hips beneath his expensive lingerie, and suddenly feels very plain in his sensible black briefs.

Wonsik swallows a whispery sound of desperation as he grinds down against Taekwoon. “You make me feel so good.”

“You t-too,” Taekwoon stutters out, eyes darting between Wonsik’s face and his dick where it’s testing the tensile strength of the panties’ lace front.

Wonsik moans, loudly, and collapses on Taekwoon’s chest. “Wish you could fuck me,” he mumbles, sounding turned-on and frustrated and so genuinely put-out that Taekwoon can’t help but laugh.

They have a rule about no penetrative sex in the days leading up to a performance because even if they were to use half a bottle of lube beforehand, Wonsik’s body sometimes has trouble opening up. More often than not, he ends up getting caught in the moment and overdoing it only to pay the price later and their choreography doesn’t exactly lend itself to being efficiently performed with a sore ass.

Taking advantage of Wonsik’s prone position, Taekwoon takes a hold around his waist and rolls them over. Wonsik goes willingly, his legs falling open to accommodate Taekwoon between his thighs.

While Taekwoon can’t fuck him, he can still give him what he needs. He shifts, getting his hands under Wonsik’s body, gripping the small of his back in an encouragement to grind up against him as much as he wants. Wonsik has never been one to hold back when asking for what he wants, but when he’s close like this, he’s less proactive about chasing his own pleasure, as if he wants to delay his orgasm for as long as possible. Which is fine, Taekwoon is more than happy to tease him for hours until he gets mouthy again, clingy and desperate to get off.

Usually. Not right now.

That’s not what Wonsik needs.

Now, it’s not just about getting him off. Taekwoon want him to feel good, of course, but it’s more than that. He needs to show him how much he’s loved and how much Taekwoon wants him, always.

 “Thank you for letting me see you like this,” he says, quietly, lips hovering just above Wonsik’s.

Wonsik closes his eyes, but it’s not embarrassment. It’s the way he hides when Taekwoon tells him he loves him, even now. His eyes are almost always wet when he opens them again. This time is no different.

Wonsik’s stockinged heels are digging into Taekwoon’s ass where his legs are wrapped around his waist, rutting against him, dick leaking through the lace.

“Taek—ahh, shit. You’re gonna make me come.”

“You’re going to make a mess in your pretty little panties,” Taekwoon teases, feeling bold enough to attempt some semblance of dirty talk.

“Yeah,” Wonsik breathes, his eyes closing on a smile, “wanna come all over them for you.”

That makes Taekwoon’s hip stutter for a second and the laughter Wonsik gives in response is reduced to a grunt as Taekwoon regains his focus long enough to shift into an even higher gear.

The noise Wonsik makes is lost in a deep, rough breath as he comes with a truly obscene roll of his hips.

Taekwoon gentles him through it, dropping kisses across his sweat damp hairline and slowing the steady thrust of his hips to make Wonsik shiver. He can feel the familiar pooling in his stomach, signalling that his own orgasm is imminent.

“Wait!” Wonsik gasps with a sudden clarity as comes back to himself, his breath ghosting across Taekwoon’s over-sensitive skin, halting the easy flow of their bodies. “Don’t come yet.”

A hint of guidance comes in the form of Wonsik’s hand working between them to draw Taekwoon’s briefs down low enough to pull his dick out, bringing their hips back together to restart their rhythm with a surge of his spine. Wonsik keeps his eyes on where their bodies meet, watching with rapt fascination as Taekwoon’s leaking cock leaves a trail of precome against the stark black fabric of his panties.

“Mess me up, babe,” Wonsik says, shifting his focus to Taekwoon’s face, arousal darkening his voice and his eyes in equal measure.

The energy shifts, and Taekwoon is helpless to resist the command. The muscles in his stomach start to twitch as he comes in a dizzying rush. A shock that spreads and shakes through his body and Wonsik is clinging to him, still, making everything a little too hot.

He slumps over, deliberately picking up his hips to try and dispel some of the heat between them, gasping against the sweat damp skin of Wonsik’s neck as he tries to catch his breath. He works a hand between their bodies, his fingers swiping messily through the come splattered across Wonsik’s underwear.  “I’ll buy you a new pair, I promise.”  

Wonsik shrugs and wipes his own hand through the mess, absentmindedly rubbing it further into the fabric. “S’okay, it was worth it. Hey,” he wiggles his hips, playfully drawing Taekwoon’s attention to his softening dick where it fits neatly within black lace once more. “Take them off for me?”

“These too?” Taekwoon asks, running a hand along the delicate seam of Wonsik’s stockings.

Wonsik nods, swallows roughly. “Yeah.”

Taekwoon takes the stockings off first. Bunching them at the band to ensure a smooth removal.  Taekwoon rolls them down his legs, one by one, watching the muscles in Wonsik’s thighs tense as they’re revealed – as if the uncertainty has returned now that his post orgasm high has worn off somewhat.

“Stop it,” Taekwoon chastises, a reminder to let go of the nerves, digging his fingertips into Wonsik’s thighs until the stiffness eases and Taekwoon can feel him relax.

Wonsik lifts his ass up without prompting, and lets Taekwoon peel him out of the sticky lace panties until all that’s left is Wonsik, unadorned.

Without the frills but no less beautiful.

Depositing the lingerie on to the floor by the foot of the bed, Taekwoon slides up the mattress and settles in next to Wonsik, pulling him close as their skin cools.

In the living room, he can hear Sanghyuk laughing at some godawful screeching coming from the television. Which is as good an indication as any that the walls in their apartment can’t soundproof for shit. God knows what Sanghyuk has heard coming from their end of proceedings.

“Hakyeonnie said to tell you “bye”, by the way,” Taekwoon says, a firm believer in the adage ‘better late than never’. Sanghyuk’s laughter putting him in mind of their leader’s parting words.

“Bye, hyung,” Wonsik says sleepily, to the phantom Hakyeon floating somewhere in the ether, then, “where’d he go?”

“Out. With the boys -- well, not Sanghyuk-ah.”

“Is Hongbin dragging them to that cocktail bar again?” Wonsik asks, amused, clearly already knowing the answer.

“Most definitely.”

“Think they’ll be home tonight?” Wonsik says conversationally, settling down further beneath the comforter.

“Probably. Once Jaehwan’s drank his weight in cosmopolitans and Hongbin realizes the bartender’s a lost cause.”

“She has a girlfriend, y’know?”

“She does?”

“Mhmm, she’s dating the lady who plays the piano on weekends.”

“Should we tell Hongbin?”

“Nah. He’ll figure it out.” Wonsik’s on the edge of sleep, Taekwoon can tell by the way his voice is pitched, low and thick. 

Taekwoon pulls him closer under the covers, tracing the sharp angles of his naked hips. Wonsik is quiet, but he's still awake, and Taekwoon can sense the residual tension thrumming beneath his skin, because he knows Wonsik and he knows his body.

“No more secrets, okay.” Taekwoon doesn't put much force behind the words, nor does he phrase it as a question. Simply speaks and waits, watching the awareness slowly unfurl across Wonsik's features.

When he opens them, Wonsik’s eyes are far too clear and focused for having just been one step from sleep. “You really liked it, huh?” He’s working too hard to keep his tone casual and Taekwoon doesn’t want him to doubt himself anymore. He’s done more than enough of that this evening.

Taekwoon’s hands twitch where they are snug around Wonsik’s hips, the nervous energy in the room is clearly catching. He shifts his hold up until he’s able to give Wonsik’s waist a squeeze. “I like everything about you.”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, I thought that was a given.”

It’s inevitable when Wonsik hides his face at the admission, the way he so often does when Taekwoon tries to tell him these things, moving instead to nose at Taekwoon’s collarbone.

“It was nice, being with you like that,” Wonsik says, shifting his weight, rebalancing and facing Taekwoon once more. His fingers skim high, into Taekwoon’s hair and his voice is _so_ quiet. “I felt pretty.”

“Beautiful,” Taekwoon amends, leaning in for a kiss and Wonsik’s smile speaks volumes against his lips.

 


End file.
